


Case File #459

by sasquatchwithawatch



Category: LiEat (Video Games)
Genre: I don't regret any of this, M/M, Poor Side Characters, There's nothing illegal in this I promise, They're cops I swear, This game has ruined me, age is just a number
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasquatchwithawatch/pseuds/sasquatchwithawatch
Summary: It started off innocently enough. Iris just happened to catch her bosses sharing a couple of glances over coffee one early morning. However, when she starts noticing it more frequently, she decides to take matters into her own hands as captain of the investigative unit - to figure out what's really going on, and why she doesn't know about it yet.





	1. Entry #1

This has gone on long enough. I grabbed an investigation warrant from the front desk, so now it's time to take matters into my own hands, officially. All resources at my disposal will go into this – just to reveal what I wholeheartedly believe to be the truth: Captain Neil and Vice-Captain Brett are secretly in love with each other.

 

I've been stalking them for the last two months.

 

I think they've begun to suspect me, but neither of them have made a move – any sort of move, on me, or each other. They occasionally have conversations when they're alone, maybe exchange a little gesture or two, but never anything intimate or romantic. They've missed at least fifty opportunities in the last three weeks – seriously, how dense can they be?

 

Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's look at this from the very beginning.

 

It was just a normal Tuesday morning in the common room. Exhausted workers were shuffling in and out – some carrying lukewarm coffee mugs, others barely conscious. However, there they were – plain as day – gazing into each others' eyes in front of the sugar and vanilla creamer. Just out in the open. Where anybody could see them. Just staring at each other. As if there were no one else in the world.

 

At first, I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the paperwork load finally got to them and they regressed back to the days of staring contests – I don't know. Or maybe they were just trying to communicate with their eyes, telepathically, like in those old movies with cliche couples. Either way, my suspicions were raised, since no two people look at each other they same way they do.

 

After that, I noticed that it started to happen more frequently – not the staring, I mean. Just little things that you would associate with sickeningly cutesy couples. For example, walking throughout the corridors laughing like school girls, or grabbing lunch together every single day, or reaching for the same pencil at the same time and then casually brushing fingers. And one time – by chance – I even saw them walk back to the dorms together in the rain while sharing – I repeat, _sharing_ – an umbrella.

 

You could write off one or two of these events as coincidence, but I know that there's more to it than that. There has got to be.  
  
They just came around the corner, I have to try to act nonchalant – if they notice that I'm staring, they'll definitely get suspicious! Can't have that – _I'm_ the one with the suspicions.  
  
And think about it! If I finally get something right, especially something as huge as this, then people will start taking me seriously around here!  
  
More details soon to follow – Ashberry out.

 

 


	2. Entry #2

A few weeks have passed since my last log, but things have improved!

 

I managed to sneak into Vice-Captain Brett's office while they were out on another mission, and I found a few things while sifting through his desk. Tucked in between the paperclips and the thumb tacks were – and this is not a drill – peppermints!

 

I've been here long enough to know that Captain Neil carries peppermints in his pocket like some grandpa who always has aged candy lying around, so there's only one plausible explanation for why Brett has them.

 

Why? Because Brett isn't the type of person who casually buys peppermints.

 

I did some digging, and I discovered that most of his paycheck goes towards food, rent, clothes, and books. The only way those peppermints could have possibly ended up in his desk, in his _private_ office, was if Captain Neil gave it to him personally. Usually when he's given one, he eats it immediately or stores it away in his pocket, so there would be no reason for this hoard to exist unless he was given an excessive amount. Which would mean that he would have had to spend a lot of time around the Captain! They do that a lot, but I'm talking about more than usual.

 

There wasn't just one or two, there were at _least_ twenty.

 

Alongside that, I managed to get inside the Captain's quarters as well. A few people saw me, but I managed to wave it off using the “I accidentally gave him the wrong file” excuse and they seemed to believe it.         

 

It does happen, sadly. 

 

Anyways, remember how I mentioned Brett's love for books. _It's obsessive_. He treats them better than he treats people. I once saw him slip one into an evidence bag to keep it dry from the rain. He wouldn't let anyone else touch it, let alone hold it. When I got past the lock, I saw one of his book on Captain Neil's desk. I knew it was his too, since I've seen him carrying around said-book as if it were a newborn child a week ago. He normally goes through them fast, but since things have been busy lately due to a butterfly-masked vigilante, there's no way he could've finished in between hunting criminals and filing stacks. How do I know this? The bookmark was still in it.

 

Now, I know what you're probably thinking, he could have lent it to him, or he might have left it by mistake one day – all valid points, considering that they're close. But let me draw attention to one of them – he would have had to be in here to leave it behind. Coincidence? I think not! They have _private_ offices, so why would he leave it in here instead of his own? There's only one plausible reason:

 

He spends his down-time with Captain Neil regularly.

 

At this rate, I might be able to consider this case solved in no time. It's becoming clearer every day – They're together, and there's no hiding that from _this_ detective. More to come – Ashberry out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried. I blame exams (and my shitty beta) for the lack of creativity and skill.


	3. Entry #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iris is a very bad police officer.  
> The location in the chapter is an actual place in France, and I highly recommend looking it up. It's eye candy. However, the false identity is exactly that. False. Any correlation to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Out of my entire two months of being Captain of the Investigative force, I have never managed to orchestrate something this up-close and personal. I invited Captain Neil and Vice-Captain Brett out to lunch with me in town. It took a little bit of convincing, but remember that book I mentioned? It’s now an official hostage. Brett came around to the idea immediately. What can I say? Basic collateral for the truth.

The meet-up spot is a café named “La Closerie des Lilas” – not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds foreign, and foreign food is delicious. It took some connections to get past the wait list, since being the sworn protectors of this entire vicinity isn’t _good_ enough. My new name for the evening is Ilia De’ La Camille – don’t worry, the real one is perfectly safe. On the wrong train. In the wrong town.

I need to be at the café within the hour, so I’ll be sure to document more when I get back. Hopefully my recorder has enough space for all of this.

More to come, Ashberry out!

***

 

Sitting at one of the red booths tucked away on the veranda, I tuck the recorder into my jacket pocket. “They should be here any minute now...”

I’ve been here for the last hour. The hostess didn’t seem to question my identity, accept for the occasional question about my height, followed by a “I thought you’d be taller in person!” How rude! I’m the perfect height for someone my age. Anyways, I made sure to ask for a booth far away from any excessive noise. That’s the one con about having a recorder – it records _everything._ I’m pretty sure I already got a teary break up, and a confession of love following an attempted murder featuring poison in a wine glass to edit out. No biggie though.

“Iris, there you are-”

Whipping around in my chair, I point a fork directly at Brett’s face. “Who do you think you’re calling so casually? I’ll have you know that my name is Ilia De’ La Camille, you red-headed peasant!”

In all my nine years of being alive, I’ve never seen a teenager look so confused.

“I didn’t come here to be insulted!”

“Neither did I, what type of girl is named Iris? That’s such a _boring_ name.” Glancing over my shoulder, the hostess and the other staff walk away disinterested. “Oh, thank goodness…”

“Care to explain what all that was about, Ms. De’ La Camille?” Neil pipes up, taking his seat across the table. Unlike his normal uniform, he’s wearing some button-up polo and fitting slacks – he looks nice for an old man if I do say so myself.

“Uh, it’s just, um, a change of pace? Yes, that!”

“Well, whatever it is, never point a fork at me again.” I can already feel the dock in my paycheck.

At some point, the waitress comes over and hands out the menus. Now, I’m usually not a stickler about expenses, but the prices _physically hurt_ to look at. I’d rather lick the condensation off a cup before paying six dollars for a glass of tap water! Whoever Ms. Ilia De’ La Camille is, I wonder what she considers to be “fancy.”

“Yeah, I think this sounds good. What do you think?” Glancing up, I see Brett and Neil avidly looking over the same menu. Their shoulders and cheeks were almost touching, yet neither of them seems to mind the proximity. “They named it after Hemingway apparently.”

“Just like white elephants.”

“Get out of my life.”

Smiling a bit, Neil reaches over and pinches Brett’s cheek. I can practically _feel_ the mischief radiating from him as he slyly says, “I know you don’t really want that.” Brett goes red in the face and smacks Neil with their shared menu.

“Not in front of De’ La Camille.”

If only I had a camera. If this is not proof, I don’t know what is. I must try and keep my composure – this may all just be coincidence.

 

***

 

The filet melts in my mouth, and for the first time, I think I know what Heaven truly is. No wonder this place is so popular. I pick up the fork again and continue shoveling the food into my mouth.

“You’re using the wrong utensil, Ms. De’ La Camille.” Brett smirks.

In the distance, I can hear the suspicious whispers coming from the wait staff. I lower the fork, straightening my posture ever so slightly to adjust the napkin laying on my lap.

“Of course, I knew that. I was just testing you to see if you knew enough about table etiquette to call me out on it, _sir.”_ Picking up the baby-fork, I go for the potatoes.

“That’s still the wrong one.”

“If you’re so smart, why aren’t you a Captain, Mr. Graves?”

“Did you hear that? That’s the sound of my pride shattering.” Brett turns to Neil with a pleading look. “Why did we hire her again?”

“Because she takes us out for fancy meals like this. I take it that you have the bill covered?”

I freeze, the pan-seared potatoes halfway between the plate and my mouth.

“Well, of course, gentlemen...!”’ Looking back towards the wait staff frantically, I try to ignore their low murmuring. Just as I go to look back at the food, a lady with bright blonde hair and a fur coat steps into the building. My blood runs cold, and the fork drops from my hand – sending gravy onto the table cloth with a deafening clatter.

“Oh, uh, waiter!” Throwing my hand up, I signal for the bill. “Sorry to cut this short, but we have to get going. Would you be a dear a put this on my tab?”

The waiter raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but nods curtly. “Yes, Madame.”

Once the waiter leaves, Neil leans over ever so slightly and whispers, “You have a tab here?”

“Something like that, let’s go.”

Grabbing both of their hands, I pull them away from the table and dart towards the nearest exit just as the real Ilia De’ La Camille calls for security. Pushing open the emergency door, the alarm starts blaring as we rush into the street and down the nearest alleyway.

I was sure she was half way to Vermillion town by now!

“Iris!” Pulling us to a stop, Brett glares at me menacingly. “Just what’s going on?”

“Well, uh… I thought this would be a nice surprise.” I look away from them, smoothing out my sleeves in embarrassment as they go on and on about breaking five separate laws in an hour.

It’s a miracle I didn’t get a suspension. Turning on his heel, Neil trots back to the café and pays the entire bill with a somber expression. After apologizing to the wait staff, and a very angry lady cheated out of her reservation, we head back.

Though this was a blow to my pride, the recorder was still safely tucked away in my pocket.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a skype call between two creative writing majors, and became something unspeakable - so we wrote it. Thank you for reading, make sure to leave a review! Boost our egos or tear them down completely, just tell us something to let us know that the void isn't entirely empty.


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